


Like Father Like Son

by DagReaper (TyJaxReaper)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Older Dean, Young Dean, Young Dean/Dylan Everett-Dean's son, s09e07
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-09 01:55:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4329321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TyJaxReaper/pseuds/DagReaper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Jensen!” he yelled and stayed where he was at threshold of the front door, hearing the sound of something being dropped. “Get your ass down here!” he ordered and instant heard the fast patter of shoes jogging around the upstairs hallway before he heard them at the top of the stairs. He came into view about halfway down them and they locked eyes, pissed off ones meeting terrified ones.</p><p>“Mind telling me why there’s a baseball sized crater in my car window?” he asked calmly, composer coming to him easily since his parental side kicked in when he saw his son. He hinted at the baseball because that was one of the only sports that Jensen liked, and he’d been playing around outside earlier with a ball and bat.</p><p>“Well... uh,” he hesitated, his hand clenching around the railing of the stairs. “I... it was an accident,”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Father Like Son

 

Dean nearly blew up right there and then when he saw the massive crater of glass bent inwards on the windscreen of his baby, the cracks and break at the top right corner of his beautiful car. He was breathing hard, his chest pushing out and then back in with slow, strained for control breaths. He swallowed the thick, dry lump in his throat and closed his eyes, trying to reign in his anger he knew would burst if he stared at it any longer.

He knew what happened. He figured it out pretty fast.

He quickly turned and left his big garage, not taking another glance at her while he walked the few paces of the dirt road to his secluded house. He stomped up the porch steps and slammed the door open.

“Jensen!” he yelled and stayed where he was at threshold of the front door, hearing the sound of something being dropped. “Get your ass down here!” he ordered and instant heard the fast patter of shoes jogging around the upstairs hallway before he heard them at the top of the stairs. He came into view about halfway down them and they locked eyes, pissed off ones meeting terrified ones.

“Mind telling me why there’s a baseball sized crater in my car window?” he asked calmly, composer coming to him easily since his parental side kicked in when he saw his son. He hinted at the baseball because that was one of the only sports that Jensen liked, and he’d been playing around outside earlier with a ball and bat.

“Well... uh,” he hesitated, his hand clenching around the railing of the stairs. “I... it was an accident,” he squeaked and looked like he was about to run back up the stairs. Dean cleared his throat and crossed his arms over his chest, staring up at his son with focused eyes.

“And what... you didn’t think that, maybe you shoulda told me you totalled the windscreen, and saved us from having this discussion?” the retired hunter shrugged his shoulders and watched as the boy hesitated again and bit at his lip.

“You’d be mad... you are now,” he whined a little, his voice going a few octaves higher.

“Damn right I am,” his brows knitted in a frown. “I’m obviously gonna be pissed, there’s a hole in my car,” he stated and watched as his boy tensed and shifted a little on the stairs. He wasn’t being harsh on Jensen, his old man was way worse and he’d usually end up with either a bruise or red mark for a few hours. Dean had never ‘hit’ his son, he didn’t need to. He was a good kid, always had been. Yeah, he broke a few things, but he only needed to give him a really good lecture and a light slap across the back of the head and he was good. The slap was completely different from actually hitting. He’d tap him hard enough that his son would hiss and get the idea and then he’d laugh after because Dean would come out with something funny before he left to do whatever a sixteen year old would do.

“C’mere,” he requested instead of ordered and uncrossed his arms, one reaching out and gesturing him to get closer. Jensen did, but very hesitantly and slowly, still biting at his lip.

“Dad, I’m really sorry,” he panicked a little as he gradually got closer. It’s like he thought he was actually going to physically do something that would hurt him. Dean furrowed his brow and once his son was in reach he grabbed his shoulder and leaned a little forward to be eye height with him.

“Listen, if it happens again, you tell me. It’ll save you from all this and it’ll save me from giving them... understand?” he asked firmly and gently squeezed his shoulder, feeling a little tension leave him. He got a nod out of him, but he always preferred the vocal answer, for confirmation.

“Understand?” he tilted his head a little and watched as Jensen took and deep breathe and looked him in the eye again.

“Understood dad,” he patted the boys shoulder and smirked.

“Good,” he leaned back up and pulled his son into a hug, feeling his hug back instantly. “I was serious about saving me from giving you lectures, they make me feel way too old. I feel like ‘my’ dad,” he grimaced and heard Jensen start to laugh, making him chuckle as well.

“You ‘are’ old,” his boy scoffed and pulled back, a big smirk on his face. “I’ve seen a few greys in your hair,” Dean gaped and gently shoved his son playfully, jabbing him in the sides to get to his ticklish spots.

“Shut your mouth and go get your bat and ball, meet me out in the field,” he ordered and instantly saw the gleam in his boys eye and wide smile grow. He’d fix his baby when Jensen was over his friends’ house on the weekend. He’d have a good few hours of time then. He enjoyed the time he got with his son and didn’t want to miss it. He was raising him the way ‘his’ dad wanted to rais ‘him’. It felt good.

He walked out onto the massive field in front of the house and stretched a little, feeling his body loosen.

“Dad! Catch!” Dean instantly turned around and caught the bat coming at him with speedy, hunter reflexes. Looks like he was the batter for the day. They swapped a few times, but Jensen was the usually the pitcher since he was the one throwing on the baseball team too. He was the Ace.

He’s seen every game and his son was the best, and he wasn’t just saying that because he was his dad. He had one hell of a throwing arm and his aim and direction skills were really amazing, obviously he picked that up from Dean.

“Coming at you!” he heard the yell and loosely braced the bat handle in his hands and swung as the ball came at him, accidently swinging a bit too hard and then it all happened in slow motion. The ooo-ing sound of the ball flying through the air and then glass breaking and shattering, falling inside the house of the living room.

“Shit,” he cursed under his breath and reaching a hand to his mouth. Jensen was staring at the window and then turned to him with eyes and a hanging jaw.

“Moms gonna kill you!” he hissed in worry and they both turned back to the window, hating what they saw. Dean was seriously screwed.

**Author's Note:**

> I really liked the idea and decided to write out what was going through my mind when I first saw the picture. I added the frame btw.


End file.
